Learning to Sing
by Khalida
Summary: At the start of a sixth year, Carlene Wilson is the most beautiful young witch Ron has ever seen, the biggest snob and know-it-all Hermione's ever met, and the strangest enchantress Harry's ever known. But does she have a secret that only time can tell?


AUTHOR'S NOTE: FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T KNOW HOW I WRITE, I SHALL GIVE YOU A LITTLE BIT OF INFORMATION. FIRSTLY, I AM A STRONG BELIEVER IN TAKING ARTISTIC LISENCE FOR THE SAKE OF PLOT DEVELOPMENTS. THE WORD "FANFICTION" HAS A DOUBLE MEANING. IN THIS STORY, WHICH TAKES PLACE DURING HARRY'S SIXTH YEAR AT HOGWARTS, I MAY NOT EVEN MENTION THE FACT THAT VOLDEMORT IS EVEN BACK AND PRESENTS ANY IMMEDIATE DANGER. IF I DID, MY STORY WOULD BE TOO COMPLICATED AND TIRESOME. THOUGH, I AM CHOOSING TO REMAIN TRUE TO SIRIUS'S DEATH. I TECHNICALLY DO NOT CHANGE CANON, I IGNORE/OVERLOOK CERTAIN ASPECTS THAT MAY BE TAKING PLACE AT THE TIME. DO NOT BE DISHEARTENED BY THIS, THOUGH! THE STORY IS ENTERTAINING. I MYSELF ENJOY IT, AND I RARELY ENJOY THINGS THAT I WRITE MYSELF. SECONDLY, I ALWAYS PROCEED EVERY CHAPTER WITH A QUOTE FROM A SONG, WHICH SOMEHOW RELATES TO WHAT OCCURS. ALSO, I HAVE A QUOTE FROM A SONG ENTITLED "CITY BLUES' BY MERLENE TAYLOR AND DAVID JONES. THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME. AND HAVE A MAGICAL READ!

**"One day you'll see her and you'll know what I mean. Take her or leave her, she will still be the same. She'll not try to buy you with her time. But nothing's the same as you will see when she's gone."**

**Nickel Creek, This Side**

**CHAPTER I**

**GREEN LOOKS GOOD**

**  
**

It was a dull and dreary summer's day in London when Harry pushed his way up the stairs to Gringotts bank in Diagon Alley. A grey rain steadily fell from the low clouds above, giving Harry the annoying discomfort of droplets on the lenses of his round glasses. His nose tickled as well.

Coming up beside him in a clumsy run was Hermione, her navy blue cardigan drenched with rainwater. He looked over to her for a brief instant, and he saw that mud speckled her smooth face and her commonly frizzled hair was a sopping mass. Her jeans, splashed with mud, hung over a pair of soaking tennis shoes.

"What on earth happened to you?" Harry inquired, slipping on the next step as he continued to climb.

"I got a little jostled outside of Madam Malkin's and fell into an unusually large puddle of mud," she said offhandedly, wiping rain out of her eyes. "I only just rushed up here to accompany you inside. I also have some news that I had to tell you before I forgot."

Stepping inside the bank, Harry clutched Hermione's arms as her feet went sliding upon the tile. She nearly fell, and would have if Harry had not managed to maintain his own balance. "Idiots," he muttered under his breath, "deciding to give the floor a fresh polish on a rainy day."

"It's all right, Harry," Hermione whispered, sliding beside him across the tile. "It's a bit like ice skating." Laughing, Harry watched as she glided a few feet ahead of him, her arms out to keep balance.

"What is it you wanted to tell me?" he asked quickly, wiping his glasses on his wet t-shirt. She came to a stop meters in front of the desk before turning around to face him.

A smile spread across her muddy cheeks, and she said excitedly, "My family is hosting an exchange student for the last weeks of holiday."

"To Hogwarts?" he inquired.

Hermione nodded and continued, "She's from America. Can you imagine, Harry? All of the stories about American wizards? I'd wager that there are hundreds to tell."

"America?" Harry repeated with a faint scowl. "Bloody Americans..." he murmured under his breath. "Always steeling our fashion trends, mimicking our accents..."

"Oh, Harry, do be serious," Hermione interjected with a laugh.

Nodding with a smile, his dark hair falling over his forehead, he muttered, "Yes, I suppose you're right. Anyway, what's this girl's name?"

---------------

"Carlene Wilson!" a tall security guard called from behind. Carlene, a thin redheaded girl with a sharp nose and soft chin, straightened to a standing position. She had previously been bent over a railing, her hand stirring up the pond water below with a short tree branch. Or perhaps it was not that that brought her trouble, but the fact that she was leaning purposefully into a young man's grasp, her lips pressed firmly against his neck.

Turning around, her brilliant blue eyes glimmered, she inquired of the disgruntled security guard in a sweet voice, "Is something wrong, Daddy?"

Looking at the faces of mothers and their young children as they wandered past, the guard frowned at his daughter and stated, "You know very well we do not tolerate such displays of public affection here at the mall. Mothers bring their children here."

Glancing around wide-eyed as though completely astonished by this bit of news, Carlene replied, "Oh, I guess you're right. Sorry." And with that she turned immediately around to the boy at her side.

"Carlene!" her father shouted again, his voice booming. She froze and slowly turned, looking at the ground sulkily. He stared at her for a long minute before stating, "Take my car to church, dear. It's about time you left."

"Yes, Dad," she answered softly, taking the keys from his outstretched hand. Turning to the boy, she gave him a peck on the cheek and said, "Bye, Joseph. I'll talk to you later." With that, she walked slowly toward the parking lot, the noise of the Union Station Mall resounding off of the water.

Climbing into the car, she revved the engine and pulled out onto the busy downtown St. Louis streets. It took a number of minutes before she made it to the Cathedral, but she made it there just in time for choir rehearsal. She ran inside, adjusting the flowered skirt at her hips, and the white baby-t that fell tight over her thin waist. Stopping in time to nip some Holy Water onto her fingertips, she quickly crossed herself before proceeding up the aisle toward the altar. With no need to go up into the choir loft, Carlene went to the pulpit with a quick bow and said, "I'm here. Let's go."

She received a wave from the director above, and the organ began to play. Along with the company of a harp and violin, Carlene felt surrounded by the music. Gently clearing her throat, she let out the notes softly and perfectly, "Gentle woman... Quiet light... Morning star... So strong and bright... Gentle Mother... Peaceful dove... Teach us wisdom... Teach us love... You were chosen by the Father... You were chosen for the Son... You were chosen from all women... And for woman... Shining one..." And the song continued; the music that echoed across her lips seemed to envelope her. Her face shone in a gentle light, the soft fairness of her skin illuminated in song. Her delicate fingertips fiddled with the ends of her elbow long red hair as she closed her eyes and carefully let the notes flow.

As the song came to an end, she opened her shimmering blue-grey eyes, and they fell upon a softly smiling face below her in the front pew. Smiling, she bowed to the altar and then went to sit beside him. Shaking his tanned hands, she greeted him, saying, "Hello, Father. How are you?"

"Just wonderful, Carl," he answered her as she sat down next to him. "Your voice seems to become more angelic every day."

"Thank you," she replied quietly, fiddling with the linen of her dress.

"I shall be sorry to miss you again for another year of school," he stated softly, staring thoughtfully at the altar table. "You will be back for Christmas and Easter Masses as usual?"

Sighing, Carlene replied, "Actually, not this year, Father. I am in the exchange program this year and will be attending classes at a special school in England."

Nodding, the priest stated, "Oh yes, you've mentioned that before. What's the name of the school?" He inquired this with a curious glance toward her.

"Oh," she let out in an anxious sigh, "um... It's a school for Dramatic Arts, and it's not well known at all. I don't think you could even find it in a phonebook."

"Well, I'd like to know the name, so that perhaps I could write you," the priest said softly, staring at her inquisitively. There was something about Father Patrick that always made Carlene think that he could read her thoughts. He possessed such a thoughtful, piercing glance with those silvery blue eyes that made her feel comfortable and nervous at the same time.

"Don't worry, Father," Carlene stuttered, "I'll be sure to write you if I have anything terribly pressing to ask about. And if you must write me, give the letter to my parents and they'll be sure to send it off to me."

Smiling, he shook her hand and said, "Very well, Carl, you win." Giving him a quick hug, Carlene stood and exited the pew. "I shall see you at Mass on Sunday then," he stated as she genuflected on the aisle.

"You can count on it, Father. Till Sunday." And she was walking slowly back down the aisle to the back. As she took some Holy Water, she chanced a glance back to see Father Patrick kneeling in silent and fervent prayer, his thoughts never far from Christ. Smiling, she felt confidant as she went back out onto the street and into the car. As she headed through the parking lot, a group of teenage guys passing by whistled at her. Turning to them, she let out a flirty wave and called, "Hi there!" They all smiled and laughed, one young man's face going pink.

An hour later, she was at home in her room, staring out of the window in thought. Something inside of her lurched as she thought of the next year in England. Turning away from the open window, she stared at her desk where a pile of mail sat unopened and unread. Pulling out a thin ash colored wand from the pocket in her skirt, she pointed at the letters and said, "_Accio mail._" In an instant, the letters on the desk flew into her outstretched hand. Falling backwards onto her bed, she sighed and looked through them, dropping them each on the spread beside her as she went. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." "Wizards Digest." "Quelltons Magical Preparatory School." "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." "Merlin's Monthly Magazine—Broomsticks: How Fast is Too Fast?" "Witch's Cottage—Fashion: Which Robes are our Celebrities Wearing Today?" "Hermione Granger." She stopped and stared at this one in curiosity. Opening it gently, she read the following words:

_Dear Carlene,_

_I am writing to impart my greetings and include a message of excitement for the upcoming three weeks we shall spend together before boarding the train for school. I am sure you are as excited about attending Hogwarts as I am about returning for another wonderful term. I greatly look forward to meeting you on Monday this next week. I cannot hide my excitement from anyone! My dear friends Ronald, Harry, and Ginny are at my home as well, and they all extend their greetings. They cannot wait to meet you either._

_Until Monday,_

_Hermione Granger_

Rereading the line speaking of her friends, Ronald, Harry and Ginny, Carlene could not help but wonder at the name Harry. Could it be possible that a Muggle-born such as her own self was friends with Harry Potter? Though, Harry was a quite commonly used name, and he could be anyone. Yet, she continued to raise an arching eyebrow at the thought.

Smiling slyly, she removed from the envelope a small marble looking thing and read the postscript aloud in a mocking accent, "My family vacationed to Germany early this summer, and I thought it would be suitable that I might give you this, considering that a new term is approaching. It is a German Remembral. Though much smaller than the English ones, they are much more accurate." Rolling the Remembral between her thumb and forefinger, Carlene frowned in distaste and tossed it onto the floor.

"What do I need a Remembral for?" she muttered with a slight hint of arrogance. "What a nerd," she let out about Hermione. "I'm soooooo excited about going back to school," she mocked in a high pitched, falsely exaggerated British accent. Turning back to the window, she sat upon the sill and let her legs dangle outside. With little more than a thought, she began to sing to herself:

**"Livin' in a small town was something I dreamed of**

**But never did**

**I was a city kid**

**  
**

**On the TV and radio they'd be talkin'**

**About more bad news and it left me**

**Singin' the city blues**

**I want to see a night sky with too many stars to count**

**Seems like the city lights always drown them out**

**  
**

**I want to watch the sun rise **

**Sparkle on the misty mornin' dew**

**Oh, I'm tired of singin'**

**The city blues."**

**  
**

She started when she heard a gentle laugh from behind. Quickly ducking into the room, she looked to the doorway to see her mother staring over at her. "I love to hear you sing, Carl," her mother stated in a sigh.

"Mom, get out," she cried, climbing back inside the room. "I hate it when you sneak in on me like that!"

"I'm sorry, sweetie. I just wanted to make sure you were packed," her mother said gently, looking at her daughter lovingly.

Freezing, Carlene looked at her mother threateningly before asking, "Packed?"

Nodding, her mother replied, "Yes, pumpkin head. Your flight is tomorrow afternoon. Your father and I are taking you out this evening to say goodbye."

"What?!" Carlene shouted in anger. "I don't need to be there till Monday!" There was a pause, and Carlene's dazzling eyes shot to the calendar hanging on the wall. It was Friday. Her stomach sank as she counted up the hours of the flight and the time difference between Missouri and England. "It will be late in the night Monday morning in England when I arrive, won't it?" she inquired slowly.

"Yes, dear. And we're going to miss you terribly," her mother cooed in silliness. "Meanwhile, Elly will be singing as a replacement for you during Sunday's Mass."

"No," Carlene let out. "I promised Father Patrick that I would be there on Sunday. I promised. Elly can't sing half as good as me. Half the time she's flat and when she's not, she's blubbering in shock that she's on key."

"You're leaving tomorrow."

"No, I won't go. I refuse," she pouted, stamping her feet and crossing her arms over her chest in indignation. "I have to sing. They can't do it without me."

"Sorry," her mother said with a wave. "Bon Voyage," she called, exiting the room and heading down the stairs.

Sitting abruptly on the bed, she pouted out her lip sulkily before picking up a magazine that came with her other mail. "Witch's Cottage," it read, a beaming picture of a young witch who was enjoying her spot on the front page by blowing kisses and shaking her long brown hair out so that it blew in the unseen wind. Opening the magazine, she rifled through the pages to find a full-page clothing advertisement somewhere in the middle. There, Carlene stared at a smiling and waving picture of herself modeling a set of stylish violet robes that flowed to her stiletto heals. Upon her head was a sparkling tiara. The words beside her read: "Elegant Robes for that Special Halloween Ball."

She smiled down at herself, wishing she could have another photo shoot with them. But that set was the last one with Witch's Cottage. Her mother no longer wanted her to model at her young age. It had been fine when she was young and appearing in GAP ads before she ever knew she was a witch. But now that she was "becoming a young woman," her mother thought it sensible for her to focus on her studies, and not her silly image.

Then, she thought of Hogwarts, and she sighed in a mixture of disappointment and exasperation. She so longingly desired to be returning to Quelltons with her friends. The mountains of Colorado seemed so inviting compared to English countryside. Sighing, she mumbled, "I don't want to do this. Life sucks."

---------------

Carlene arrived in England three days later, excitedly greeted by a bushy haired Hermione and her two perfectly straight-toothed parents. She proceeded to Hermione's home where she was introduced to Ginny Weasley. Unfortunately, the so-named Harry and Ronald had been unable to stay due to recent events that they chose not to disclose.

Once again, the sky shone dull and cloudy as Hermione escorted Carlene through Diagon Alley two weeks later. The streets were filled with students and their parents who bustled around buying last minute items for school.

"Now, seeing as how I have already got all of my supplies, I think I'll go look for some light reading while you are fitted for your school robes," Hermione said brusquely. Adjusting her curls so that they fell perfectly down her back and shoulders, Carlene nodded and strode up to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Hermione followed her for a moment, and as she looked into the window of the shop, she scowled in disgust.

"What's the matter with you?" Carlene asked, staring at the girl's expression. Hermione had her eyes fixed behind Carlene, so the girl followed her gaze. There, she laid eyes upon a boy their age with silvery blonde hair being fitted in ebony black robes. "Who is he?" Carlene asked in mild interest, taking a step forward.

"Draco Malfoy, the most arrogant prat in all of England," Hermione hissed with her teeth clenched. Grabbing Carlene's wrist, she pulled her back into the street. "Let's wait a minute shall we?"

"Why?" she asked, looking through the window. She stared at Malfoy for a long moment, and then inquired, "Is it because of him?" Hermione nodded. "What, do you have a crush on him or something?" she asked suspiciously.

Looking at Carlene in disbelief, Hermione distorted her face and exclaimed, "On Malfoy? Ugh, revolting! I would sooner eat slugs."

"Are you crazy? This Draco guy is rather cute if I do say so myself," Carlene replied, running her fingers through her hair. "I'm going in there whether you like it or not. Getting new robes while being fitted for them in front of an incredibly hot guy. You couldn't ask for more than that." And with that she smacked her lips and went inside.

"Good afternoon!" Madam Malkin greeted from behind Draco, pins in her mouth. "I will be with you in just a moment. Just stand over here next to mister Malfoy."

Smiling, Carlene did as she was told, making sure that her hair was perfectly positioned in her reflection from the window, behind which Hermione kept close watch. Stepping up next to Malfoy, she pretended to be interested in a set of hunter green dress robes in the corner while all the time she watched the boy from the corner of her eye.

Malfoy was taking her in, his eyes sly and cunning, revealing no thoughts behind them. Letting out a breath, he said, "You go to Hogwarts?"

"Yep," she replied, looking to him then quickly staring back at the robes, a look of certain disinterest upon her face. She appeared to find the robes more handsome and captivating than the living, breathing human beside her.

"I've never seen you before. What year are you?" he asked, his tone slick and smooth.

"I'm in sixth year," she muttered lazily as Madam Malkin departed into a back room to look for more pins.

There was a moment in which Malfoy seemed to play at her game and let out, "Oh, that's nice." A moment passed, and Carlene looked at him in curiosity. Quickly looking back to the robes, she hummed softly inside her throat.

"What house are you in?" he inquired offhandedly, making the most dainty sort of conversation possible, a small smirk upon his face.

"Oh," she let out, her mind roving, but her mask still up, "you know. That one... with the..." And she trailed off, feeling somewhat stupid.

A moment, Malfoy let out a small chuckle. "You're American," he stated confidently, nodding his head assuredly.

"Yes," she finally let out with a beaming smile. "I'm in the exchange program."

"Where are you from in America?" he asked, interest etched into his face.

"St. Louis, Missouri." She smiled as he nodded. His hair was so cute as it fell into his eyes when he nodded his head.

"Speaking of Houses," she replied, "your Headmaster said that I have to go through a Sorting Ceremony of my own, just after the first years are finished."

Madam Malkin had returned and had finished with Draco's robes. As he got his package of robes and paid for them, Draco grinned and said, "Maybe you'll get put into Slytherin. I'm in that house."

"Maybe," Carlene let out as Madam Malkin started on her. "Oh, and Madam, I would also like to try that set of green dress robes in the corner."

"Green may look good on you, but," Malfoy stated, searching the room with his eyes. "I think you should try the ocean blue ones over there. It'll bring out the color in your eyes."

Smiling, Carlene chuckled, aware that she now had the attraction of a very handsome young Englishman. "Alright, the blue ones instead please," she stated with a soft smile. Madam nodded and began to measure the girl's slender waist and long legs.

As he turned to leave, Malfoy stopped and turned back around to face her. "You didn't tell me your name," he said.

"You never asked." Was her reply in a smooth voice.

"What's your name then?" he asked with a smirk.

"I'm Carlene Wilson, Draco Malfoy," she answered him, a playful air in her voice as she smoothly said his name.

He laughed and slightly nodded his head. "See you at school, then," he said as he departed through the doorway, the bell above it chiming.

Madam Malkin finished fitting her and put the robes in boxes. Handing her the money, Carlene took her packages and went back outside where Hermione was sitting on a bench across the street, a look of disapproval on her face.

"Hello, Hermy," Carlene greeted with a laugh.

"It's Hermione, and don't 'hello' me." The girl scolded, obviously insulted. "That was the most sickening display I have ever seen!"

"It's how the game is played, darlin'. I'd get used to if I were you. You have to put up with me for just one more week and then I'm out of your hair."

"Unless you're sorted into Gryffindor by some unlikely chance," Hermione sulked. "And then we'll have to room together."

"I highly doubt that will happen, dear," Carlene said arrogantly, scanning the shops with mild interest. "I need my books. Let's go." And so they went and got her books, some wand polish, potions ingredients, quills, ink, and all.

As they were finishing malts at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, Carlene said, "I need to stop by a Quidditch shop, then we'll be finished."

"Why do you need Quidditch stuff?" Hermione asked as she stood up and helped Carlene with her bags, and they headed for Quality Quidditch Supplies.

"Because, I need some polish for my new broom that my boyfriend got me for my birthday in May," Carlene explained. "Joseph knew that I needed a new one, because the Nimbus Two-Thousand is so out of date, so wasn't I surprised when I opened the Lightning Bolt Millennium the morning of my birthday. I was like, 'it must have cost you a fortune, Joseph,' but then again his family is very wealthy, so I took it and got him a thank you gift. I got him a falcon, because he didn't have any sort of mail bird."

Hermione cut in, half shocked, half confused. "So, you're saying that your boyfriend got you the newest, fastest broomstick since the Firebolt a month before it hit store shelves!" Carlene nodded a wide smile on her face. "And what was that codswallup about falcons?"

"Well, you see, I did have an owl for about a year, but he got sick and died," Carlene explained.

"So, for my second year, I went to a brand new Wizard Pet Store inside Union Station, and they had a whole line of peregrine falcons for sale. They're the new thing in America, and much faster and more efficient and reliable than owls. So I bought one."

"Oh, that's interesting," Hermione stopped her in impatience. "Here we are. Go ahead and get what you need."

"Won't you come in with me?" Carlene asked, gesturing toward the door.

"No, I'm fine," Hermione snapped.

Carlene just stood there, biting her lower lip. "I'll just go and get that, then," she said, and went into the shop

"Arrogant little American," Hermione let out in a whisper. "They're the new thing in America... Much faster and more efficient than owls..." she grumbled, kicking at the cobblestones as she waited out on the street. There was a long moment before Carlene returned with a brand new kit for broomstick care.

Looking up and down the busy streets, Carlene suddenly seemed uneasy. "Hey, Hermione, I'm gonna hang back for a while. I think I see a store I want to look into for a second."

"All right," Hermione replied with a sigh of almost relief. "Then you don't mind that I head down to the Leaky Cauldron."

"No that's fine," Carlene muttered offhandedly. "I'll meet you there." Nodding, Hermione turned and headed off toward the Leaky Cauldron. A long moment passed, in which there was silence.

"Carlene," someone suddenly hissed from behind her. She turned to see someone hiding in a shadowed corner. "Have you got it yet?"

Stepping closer, Carlene asked, "Pete?" The person cast their dark robe about in frustration as he stepped closer to the wall.

"No, it's Merlin the Great," he hissed. "Yes, of course it's me!" Carlene came up to him as he asked more upset this time, "Have you got it yet?"

"Are you kidding?" she whispered. "I'm not even at Hogwarts yet. Give me some time, but I will get it for you. Don't worry, Pete. You'll have it eventually."

"Don't let us down this time, Carlene. And watch your back," he hissed and then disapparated with a loud crack, leaving her alone again.

"Do they think I'm stupid or something?" she asked herself, digging into her purse. "It's only been two weeks. They need to have more faith in me." When she found what she was looking for, she crouched down so that no one would notice her. Pulling out her wand from the inside of her vest, she unrolled a piece of paper and put the tip of the wand to it. "Reveal Harry Potter," she whispered under her breath, making sure no one saw her. For a moment the paper remained blank, and then the words began to write themselves across its surface. _The Leaky Cauldron, Diagon Alley, London_, they read. Smiling, Carlene put her wand and paper away.

Standing up and walking down the street, she made her way to the Leaky Cauldron, a pleasant grin playing upon her lips. As she was on her way, a sudden skirmish inside a store sent people running around madly scrambling for the safety of neighboring shops. Before she had time to react, she was barreled over by two boys, both of whom were short and small. As they lay in the dust of the cobblestones as more people rushed by, Carlene pushed the two kids off of her saying, "What's the big deal?"

Standing up and dusting off her jeans, she looked down into the wide staring eyes of two brothers. Pointing toward the store, which happened to be Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop, the elder brother pointed to the empty doorway and said, "It-it's in there."

"What's in there?" Carlene asked, frustration in her voice.

The younger one fidgeted to his feet saying, "An escape Bi-Headed, Fire-Spitting Mongoose!" The older cried out in fear at the name.

"A what?!" she shouted in complete annoyance. "Oh, please. If you haven't noticed, boys, that is a joke shop, and can you guess what it's full of?"

"Jokes?" they both said simultaneously.

Rubbing her forehead, Carlene muttered, "Yes. I have read about many magical creatures and in none of the books I have touched does it ever mention a Bi-Headed, Fire-Spitting Mongoose." The two boys smiled in relief. "Let that be an assurance to you two, so you can go in there and tackle the problem one little baby step at a time!" she exclaimed sarcastically, and then walked away, sighing in annoyance.

"Wow, did you see how brave she was, Dennis?" the older boy muttered, staring after her. "I mean, the mention of the name didn't even scare her."

"I know, Colin. I know," Dennis acknowledged with a nod of his head. Then they both smiled as Colin reached for his camera to take a picture of whatever the joke had been.

Meanwhile, Carlene was striding into the Leaky Cauldron to see Hermione and six other people sitting at a table in the far corner eating cookies while drinking sweet tea. As she walked in, Hermione stood up and said, "Everybody, this is the girl I was just telling you about. Carlene Wilson." The group let out a suppressed snicker. Waving at them to be quiet, Hermione gestured to two of the girls and said, "These two are Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil."

"Hi," the two girls greeted with bright smiles across their faces, and giggles under their breath. Carlene nodded to acknowledge them and continued to remain silent.

"Um- this is Fred Weasley, Ginny's brother," Hermione continued.

"I apologize if you got caught in the cross-fire of my little prank at the joke shop." At this, they all burst into laughter, all of them except Carlene that is.

Before Carlene could respond, Hermione continued by gesturing to the last two people, one of them with dark, messy hair, glasses, and bright green eyes, and the other with hair the same red as the Weasleys. "And this is Ron, Ginny and Fred's brother, and this is Harry Potter. Harry's staying with Ron the last fortnight of holiday."

"Hello," Ron murmured, going red in the face and looking down into his glass. Carlene wasn't really paying much attention to him, but instead she was completely enthralled with Harry.

"So," Carlene began, "you're the famous Harry Potter. Well, it's nice to meet you." And she said nothing more throughout the entire meeting. For an hour and a half, the group discussed everything from the weather to their suspicions about the new year's professors. When it was over, Hermione, Ginny and Carlene said their good-byes and departed for Hermione's home by means of the London Underground.

As they were getting ready for bed, Hermione came into Carlene's room and said, "Look, I know you're upset about today. And I just wanted to apologize if you didn't have a very good time."

Carlene glared at Hermione for a moment, then she turned to the mirror and began pulling her long hair back into a tail. "Listen," Carlene said, "it was just the fact that everybody was laughing at me that upset me. I'm not usually on the end of someone's crude jokes."

Hermione was only half listening to the girl as she complained on and on. "Keep in mind, Carlene, that I just apologized," Hermione breathed, her temper bubbling.

The other girl seemed to ignore her when she spoke, and only after a moment of silence did Carlene turn and inquire sarcastically, "Oh, I'm sorry. Are you still talking?"

Steam in her ears, Hermione glared and seethed, "Do you realize how insufferable you are? All you can do is prattle on about how you're always being mistreated, and about how you hate being here."

"Maybe I'll just leave," Carlene let out in frustration. "No one here appreciates me. I should go back home where I'm the one with the photo shoots, I'm the one with the singing career, I'm the one with the highest marks, and where I'm the one with the highly paid job! It's not me who's insufferable. It's this country that's insufferable!"

"Ohh, you are such a little drama queen!" Hermione screamed, pulling at her hair in frustration. "No wonder Ginny can't stand you!"

"What the hell does that mean!" Carlene shouted, throwing down her hairbrush roughly. "I am that beautiful and talented redhead! Ginny adores me!"

Scowling, Hermione huffed, "You're so arrogant, you wouldn't know adoration if it smacked you over the head with a broomstick! Ginny thinks that you're a whining little braggart who can't keep her nose level with anyone else. You know what, I think you and Draco are perfect for each other."

"Is that supposed to bother me?" Carlene asked in fury. "Listen, Hermione! At least I spend my time doing things that normal teenagers do. At least I have a social life. I couldn't imagine a boy ever taking a second look at you. Always hiding behind your silly books! Tell me, have you ever had a boyfriend?"

There was a short moment of silence in which pain stabbed sharply into Hermione's throat. Searching for words, she stuttered, "Yes, yes I have! I dated Victor Krum back in fourth year!"

"You mean that oaf of a Quidditch player?" Carlene laughed. "I guess that seems right. I suppose you have enough brain to satisfy the two of you." Hermione stared at her in shock. She could not believe that someone could be so cruel.

"Victor is a great person," she whispered slowly. "He's kind and considerate. He may have trouble speaking his feelings, but he's brilliant in so many ways. So shut it about Victor!" Tears burned behind her eyes now, but she refused to let them flow. She would not let Carlene know that she had been defeated. Gently, she took a step out of the room and began to pull the door to. Just as she closed it, she stopped and looked back in on Carlene, who was frozen as she stared at herself in the mirror. "I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about the way I may have accidentally treated you this afternoon," she murmured, her eyes on the floor. "That's all."

A long moment, and Carlene resumed brushing her wavy locks. "Goodnight, Hermione," she muttered, her eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror.

"'Night," Hermione whispered, shutting the door.

------------------


End file.
